Infinite
by Dazzling
Summary: Post-'Bait', Jack and Sam and inevitablity. Ficlet.


**disclaimers:** i own nothing  
**summary:** post 'bait', jack and sam and inevitability  
_j/s angsty romance type stuff, third person present tense pov. assumes no m/s._

infinite

There haven't been many times in his life when he hasn't known how he got somewhere. A few drunken nights in college, maybe; the occasional wrong turn on a dark road late at night when hisego beat the use of a map.

Tonight, though, he's not sure how he got here. He doesn't know why he's here and she's there and when his wife decided that the distance in between them should be geographical as well. He just doesn't know, and it scares him.

He's always been in control. It's something he prides himself on. But sitting alone in a darkened apartment that he's not certain is really his anymore, he thinks that maybe now there's nothing stopping him from losing his control when it comes to her. Maybe now, he's allowed to. Maybe now, it's expected.

Which is how he finds himself standing in front of her door and knocking as though his life depends on it – and perhaps, he reflects, it does. It swings open before his fist can pound the wood for a seventeenth time.

"Sam."

"Jack."

To her credit, her face manages to remain mostly impassive. If she is surprised to see the broken man being held up by her doorframe, she doesn't show it.

"I thought… come in," she concedes, holding the door wider to let him slip through. He follows her wordlessly to the small kitchen he remembers so well. Coffee is offered and declined, and he can tell that she's waiting for an explanation (_and really, so is he_) as to his presence there and in New York and in her life once more.

"So," is all he can manage to come up with. A raised eyebrow assures him that it's not enough, not this time.

"I thought you'd be on your way to Chicago by now."

"Change of plan." Accompanied by a weak attempt at a smile, and he knows that the next sentence will change it all. If he can find something to say, that is. "Marie and I… she doesn't… we're not… it can't… she wants a divorce."

A pause. Then, "oh." Her single word is measured but her eyes give her away (_don't they always?_). She's happy, or at least glad. She's glad and he's relieved and the ticking of the clock is the only sound daring to puncture the silence that's now stretching between them.

_Pleasejustsaysomething_, he silently begs her.

Another minute goes by.

_Tock._

And all of a sudden she's there in his arms, and their lips are meeting and hands are touching and he clings to her as though she'll leave too if he loosens his grip and he's never wanted (_needed_) anything so badly before in his life as he wants (_needs_) her right now. There are bursts of colour and laboured breaths and he thinks that the world just may have stopped because everything seems frozen (_too perfect_).

He doesn't know how long they stayed like that, hopelessly interwoven. He doesn't know why on earth he didn't do this before. All he knows is that when she pulls away, tears in her eyes, that kiss could've lasted a thousand years and it still wouldn't have been long enough.

"I can't," she whispers, and with those two words he's back to being broken again.

She turns away from him, hiding a sob, and her words are muffled. "There's too much to say first, and it's too soon and I don't know…"

He silences her with a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around, forcing her to look at him.

"Sam, it's… it's okay. I get it." And he does.

She wipes her eyes and sighs, gesturing aimlessly as though falling apart explained it all. "Jack, you have to know how much I want this… how much I want us. I just, I need some time."

He gives it to her, kissing her gently on the cheek and showing himself out.

He walks down the hallway in a daze, fighting the urge to run back and bang on her door and make her let him stay. It's not what she needs (_but it's what he wants_)and for once in his life, he's not going to be selfish. Maybe tonight she would not be his, but tonight wouldn't last that long. After all, they were inevitable.

Weren't they?


End file.
